With its Disney heritage and London setting, it would be easy to have
expectations that this touring production, staged by a team of Broadway
veterans, to provide a Mary Poppins-like experience. While The
101 Dalmatians Musical, which has no involvement from Disney, is not
in the same league as Mary Poppins in either production values or
writing, it's a perfectly enjoyable family musical with merits that
outweigh its flaws. Sticking with the "league" analogy, let's say it's in
the AAA minors (the league just below Major League Baseball). It's a peppy
and colorful musical, combining the guaranteed appeal of kids and dogs,
set to some hook-laden melodies by Dennis DeYoung (singer and songwriter
of the rock group Styx and composer of a musical version of The
Hunchback of Notre Dame). Though director Jerry Zaks and choreographer
Warren Carlyle keep the pace, energy and volume at one level throughout
most of the show, the piece moves along nicely and clocks in at a perfect
length of 120 minutes plus 15 minute intermission.

James Ludwig and Company

The story is taken from the novel rather the films (the original novel
by Dodie Smith is the only source material credited), though the basic
plotline is the same. London Furrier Cruella DeVil steals a litter of
Dalmatian puppies, planning to kill them and create apparel with their
furs. The puppies' parents Bongo and Missus follow in pursuit to northern
England to rescue them. They're helped along the way by dogs of all sorts
of other breeds. The dogs are played mostly by humans, with child
performers as the puppies, but supplemented by fifteen real-life
dalmatians. The story is told from the point-of-view of the dogswho, as
any dog lover will testify, believe themselves to be a species smarter and
superior to their lovable but inept humans. The production takes this
point of view visually as well; set flats are drawn with a perspective
intended to give the effect of looking up at buildings and walls from a
dog-eye level. Further, all the humans characters are performed by actors
walking on hidden stilts or extreme platform shoes to make them taller
than the actors playing animals. It doesn't really achieve the intended
effect. The actors playing humans never make their movements appear
naturalthey end up walking rather like Frankenstein's monsterthough
it does keep clear, particularly in the early scenes, who's a human and
who's a dog. It would have been better if Robert Morgan's costumes handled
that chore. Instead, the dogs are dressed more like humans in ways to
reflect the ethnicity of their breed (a Scottish terrier in a kilt, for
example).

The story moves along swiftly, though, and there's lots of song and
dance. DeYoung's score (with adequate lyrics by DeYoung and bookwriter BT
McNicholl) has a pop sensibility that sounds nothing like anything from
London in the 1950s of the story, but will have a comfortable and
familiar tone for the young audiences for whom this show is intended. The
score includes a catchy title song and a few potential breakouts, like the
ballad "One True Love," and a Disney-esque "lesson" song, "Be a Little Bit
Braver," which inexplicably has a reggae beat although it's sung by an
English sheepdog. Some of the other numbers are little too expected, like
the comedy duet "Having the Crime of Our Lives," sung by Cruella's
bumbling accomplices. Other song titles like "Man is a Dog's Best Friend,"
and "There's Always Room for One More" accurately tell you there's going
to be nothing astonishing in those numbers.

Carlyle's contemporary dances are mostly left to the dogs, since the
humans are stuck in those stilts, but the choreography is well executed by
the ensemble, which includes ten very talented child performers as the
puppies. The opening number "Man is a Dog's Best Friend," the act one
closer "Be a Little Bit Braver," "Break Out," (performed by the puppies)
and "Spot-On," a song in which the dalmatians dance with gypsies, are all
lively and winning production numbers.

The cast is now led by Sara Gettelfinger as Cruella DeVil (Miss
Gettelfinger having replaced Rachel York), and she gamely camps it up in
an appropriately cartoonish style. Unfortunately, the Broadway veteran
only has three songsall comedy numberswith which to show her
considerable skills. The remaining leads, James Ludwig and Catia Ojeda as
Pongo and Missus, Chuck Ragsdale as the narrator Prince, and Emma Zaks as
Perdita all boast solid voices. Ludwig and Ojeda provide effective dance
leadership for the doggy dance numbers as well.

Heidi Ettinger's sets are colorful and incorporate enough invention to
surprise the audience. There's a three-dimensional map of England to show
the dogs' travels and a shadow-puppet section that depicts Cruella's
pursuit of the dogs across the English countryside. The real-life dogs are
used sparingly, and to great effect. When they supplement the human actors
and painted cutouts that otherwise represent some of the 101 dalmatians,
there's a definite "wow" factorparticularly in the final scenes where
they perform some pretty amazing tricks.

Even though the creators might have included more visual and verbal
jokes abut dog behavior, dog lovers will likely smile upon this musical.
Certainly sponsor Purina Dog Chow believes so. It must be noted that the
producers and sponsor Purina crossed a boundary of sorts by having
narrator Prince carry and display a bag of Purina Dog Chow at the top of
act two. It's not quite a commercial, but it's more than product placement
and probably more intrusive than most theatergoers would like.

If The 101 Dalmatians Musical is somewhat formulaic, it's
performed with enough showmanship and laced with enough surprises to at
least be the sum of its better parts. Like a pet-owner will say about a
beloved pet, at the end of the day you just forgive the faults and errors
and love them for their virtues.

The 101 Dalmatians Musical will play the Cadillac Palace, 151 W.
Randolph, Chicago through February 28, 2010. Tickets available at all
Broadway in Chicago box offices, all Ticketmaster retail locations, and
online at www.BroadwayinChicago.com.